


the speech of angels

by Naiesu



Category: Kingdom Hearts, Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Fighting, Kingdom Hearts III Spoilers, Other, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Reapers' Game (TWEWY), Sora Has Issues (Kingdom Hearts), joshua is an angel, mentions of kh3, mentions of multiple characters, noise - Freeform, sora is hot across every world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naiesu/pseuds/Naiesu
Summary: “How did you do that?” Sora asks, looking down at the ground where the strange tattoo-like frogs are staring back up at him. One hops at the building but doesn’t get much further. He looks back at Joshua. “How did we get up here? How did you find me—?”Joshua holds his hand out, just a hair away from touching Sora’s face, and he quiets, pursing his lips.  “The real question,Sora,”he says, interested, like he’s tasting the name in his mouth, “is what areyoudoing here?”Sora stares at him, and the breath leaves his lungs.I’m dead.---An AU where Sora dies after the events of Kingdom Hearts 3, but instead of fighting Yozora he ends up in his own version of the Reaper's Game.
Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya & Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Riku & Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 97





	the speech of angels

**Author's Note:**

> first of all id just like to say sorry. i know its been forever since ive posted anything, and this is a bit of a warm up before i get to writing the safest place again. i hope you enjoy!

Sora is used to emptiness. Lonely, hollow, desolate emptiness.

But this.

This is new.

He’s on the ground, back aching and eyes scratchy, and when he sits up every part of his body seems to have a different ache than the rest. His eyesight blurs, sunlight making him squint. Everything is noise, noise, noise—laughing, shouting, horns, music.

_ Where am I? _

Sora vaults to his feet and the ground wobbles beneath him, sending him falling to his hands and knees. Dizzy.

His eyesight is clearer when he looks up, and he watches people walk past him, either unaware of his struggle or not caring enough to do anything about it.

_ Where am I,  _ he thinks again, looking up at the buildings and street signs and traffic lights.  _ Where am I? _

He tries to stand up again, shaky, but this time makes it a few feet. He’s at a crosswalk, and no one around him has even spared a passing glance.

“Excuse me,” he says, pleasant and inviting as he can manage with the pain he’s in. “Could you—”

The crosswalk light flips, inviting pedestrians to walk, and the person he’s talking to walks away without acknowledging him at all. It’s nothing, really, but with everything else going on Sora can feel the straws piling up on his back. He’s cracking, losing his composure.

“Excuse me,” he says, stumbling over to someone still waiting to cross on the opposite side. They don’t move, and Sora is unsettled, irritated.  _ “Excuse me—” _

He reaches out to touch the man, but his hand passes right through in one clean swipe. His skin feels cold, and for a second Sora wasn’t so alone in his own body anymore, but the feeling was so invasive and prodding he ends up jerking and stumbling his way back to the ground.

_ I need to get out of here,  _ he thinks, breathing out sharply and taking in the entirety of the city. He has to get higher up if he wants to find his way out.

Sora stands up, jumps once, and falls to the ground before he can get any higher. He’s lost all jumping ability, and he’s not willing to try gliding.

_ Somebody here has to be able to see me,  _ he thinks, and he doesn’t know if he believes that or if he’s just trying to convince himself.  _ That’s who I need to find. _

He starts off, ignoring the traffic and people, and walks in the middle of the street. There’s a large building overlooking the city, emblazoned with the numbers “104”. It’s staring Sora straight in the face, beckoning him forward, and he moves toward it. If he can get higher, if he can climb, he’ll have a better vantage point.

Sora thinks he’s not cut out for the urban lifestyle, and it seems like it’s even worse here than in San Fransokyo. People are cluttered in every space they can fit themselves into, clamoring to be heard, seen over each other. It’s only the second city Sora’s been to, and already he hopes it’ll be the last.

Something moves on the ground in front of him, darting between people’s feet, and he wonders why anyone could possibly want to walk a dog out here where it doesn’t have any breathing room of its own.

It lurches back in front of him again.  _ Is it even on a leash?  _ He walks a little slower, conscious of where he’s putting his feet, and scans the ground, waiting. Just in case.

Something slams into his back, and Sora hits the ground, hard. He bites his tongue, feels the warm gush of blood in his mouth, and spits on the sidewalk, rolling into a crouch.

There’s a frog—a very  _ large  _ frog—sitting in front of him. Staring.

Sora smiles, nervous, when he sees sharp lines and claws where its legs should be.

It turns its head, just a little, looking at him curiously. Sora’s fingers twitch, but when he tries to summon his Keyblade it doesn’t come.

_ Shit. _

They both move at the same time, and Sora nearly trips trying to weave his way around. His phone buzzes, once, and he rips it out of his pocket in hopes that wherever he is Riku has somehow managed to contact him.

His fingers slip when the frog jumps past his arm, and Sora almost loses his grip. He pulls it closer to his chest, knuckles white as he swipes through his passcode and all his apps trying to get to his messages.  _ Why is all this so messy—?!  _

**Reach 104**

**You have 60 minutes.**

**Fail, and face erasure.**

**-The Reapers**

“What does  _ that  _ mean?!” he shouts, an invisible voice lost in a waterfall of conversation.

But he’s not arguing. He’s running, moving fast, fast, fast when he sees more creatures slipping out of the shadows and unfurling into monsters. He zigzags when one of them bowls toward his feet, hoping against hope that whoever he meets here will have the answers he needs.

Two frogs jump at once, back feet forward and toes splayed like knives, and Sora feels something grab him from behind and lift him into the air.

_ “Let—” _ he thrashes, swinging and twisting his body,  _ “—go!” _

It jerks him. Once. Twice. Thrusting him into the air. And then it finally gives up. Sora tucks and rolls on the rooftop his been dropped on, spinning around and holding his arm out like he’s got a weapon to fight with. He’s got no experience fighting with his fists.  _ Better start learning. _

A  _ person  _ is standing in front of him, backed by the harsh white glow of sunlight. They almost look inhuman, limbs just a little too long, just a little too thin. Looks like they’re emanating light.

It disappears, blinking out of existence, and Sora stares.

“Joshua?”

“In the flesh,” he says, opening his hands as if inviting Sora to look at all of him. He cocks his hips, just a little.

There’s something strange about him, different than what Sora remembers. He looks almost like himself, but just off enough to be confused as the wrong person. The same face, the wrong personality.

“Is this your world?” Sora asks, stepping closer. It’s the only taste of familiarity he’s got, and he wants to savor it. Is afraid it’s going to disappear.

“Unfortunately,” Joshua says, stepping closer. He flips his hair out of his eyes, scanning the people shoving their way through the streets. Sora thinks he looks displeased. Disgusted, almost. It makes him nervous.

“How did you do that?” Sora asks, looking down at the ground where the strange tattoo-like frogs are staring back up at him. One hops at the building but doesn’t get much further. He looks back at Joshua. “How did we get up here? How did you find me—?”

Joshua holds his hand out, just a hair away from touching Sora’s face, and he quiets, pursing his lips. “The real question, _ Sora,” _ he says, interested, like he’s tasting the name in his mouth, “is what are  _ you  _ doing here?”

“I—”

Sora thinks about fighting Xehanort—about being handed the  χ-blade, dispelling it and ignoring the feeling of its power licking at the back of his neck begging to be called forth. Of promising to find Kairi and turning back the clock every time he messed up. Knowing he was destroying himself in the process and not caring because that meant everyone else would come out safe on the other side and that was enough. That was enough.

_ I’m dead. _

Joshua looks at him, but there’s no pity. He almost looks playful, joking, judgemental. “What did you do?” he asks, prodding and gentle at the same time. He slips his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side and watching Sora like he already knows the answer but he wants to hear him say it anyway.

_ I sacrificed myself,  _ he thinks.  _ I did what was right. _

_No,_ a soft, nagging voice in the back of his mind whispers. _You killed yourself. You did what you wanted._

“I saved Kairi,” he says at last, and his voice comes out strained. He sounds like he doesn’t believe himself. “I saved everybody.”

Joshua stares at him. Watching. Waiting.

“And who’s going to save you?”

The question hits like a pinprick—small and sharp and hurting just enough that Sora can’t focus on anything else. Who will save him? Will anybody be able to?  _ Would anybody even want to— _

Has anybody ever?

“I’m going to do you a favor,” Joshua says, pulling Sora out of his head. He drags his hands out of his pockets and rests them on his hips. “An eye for an eye if you will. You helped me out in Traverse Town, so think of this as my repayment.”

__ Sora raises his eyebrows when Joshua steps into his space, shoving his hand into Sora’s pocket and rummaging through it. He looks up at Sora through his eyelashes, a breath away, and Sora’s face feels hot. He looks away, stretching back to try to give himself more room.

“Ah,” Joshua says, standing up straight. He’s still far too close, and Sora feels like he’s choking. There’s something about his aura—thick and cloying. Powerful.

Joshua holds up his hand, and he has a pin between his fingers. It’s black, painted with a white skull, and he hooks it into the lapel of Sora’s jacket. “Don’t lose that,” he says, almost a sigh.

“What does it do?” Sora asks, touching it. It feels strange, almost like a thin barrier. Protection against something. He doesn’t know what.

“I’ll leave that for you to figure out.” Josh stands up straight, stepping out of Sora’s space. “I saved you once. We’re even now.”

“Wait,” Sora says, realizing they’re nearing the end of their conversation. “What were those things? How do I fight them?”

Joshua’s aura shifts, and Sora feels the power like a gust of wind knocking him in the gut. He holds his hand out, and Sora watches light engulf his figure, blinding him slowly.

Sora reaches toward him, struggling. Wanting to turn away from it.  _ What is he? _

Joshua drops tiny pieces of metal into his hand, and Sora sees more pins. He wants to yell, ask what they are, is more confused than before, what the  _ hell  _ is he going to do with pins? Accessories aren’t going to save his life.

“You might be surprised,” Joshua says, and his voice is so distorted it hardly sounds like him anymore.

_ “Wait, Joshua—” _

“Listen to the Reapers,” he says, as cryptic as before. His body is almost completely white, glitching in front of Sora like it’s struggling to exist at all. “I’ll be watching.”

_ “Joshua!” _

_ “One more piece of advice,” _ he says. His voice is like metal, musical and soft and confusing and Sora feels like his ears aren’t designed to hear sounds like this.

_ “Run.” _

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! come talk to me on twitter at [naiesu_s](twitter.com/naiesu_s) and listen to me ramble about my writing and my art!!


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